


Lucifer Falling from Grace

by ice_evanesco



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:30:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ice_evanesco/pseuds/ice_evanesco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock falls and wishes that he hadn't kept the important things from John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucifer Falling from Grace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [General_Button](https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Button/gifts), [OrphanText](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrphanText/gifts).



> Inspired by this gifset on tumblr: http://bennyslegs.tumblr.com/post/31516082881/subpoenagirl-strangersatthemall-its-sort

It was barely even a smile, just a curve of the lips, tugging up at one corner, and then gone again in a flash.

It was almost reflexive, every time John did something utterly **John** , it would appear, and John would never see.

Never know.

It was the way it had to be. It was the way they functioned. John with his protectiveness, and his tolerance, and Sherlock with his cutting intelligence and hidden smiles. 

The line could not be breached. **John must not know.**

Because while John was being John (and that entailed some level of obliviousness, because John never could spot the obvious, the gradually tired lines appearing around Sherlock’s eyes, and half a dozen other signs), Sherlock was fighting a war on several fronts. 

In the background, Moriarty kept him on his guard at all times, trying to predict the next move, the next Act of their Play.

Internally, a battle between his intellect and his growing emotions, his gradual and definite humanization wore at him. The facade was cracking, splintering across the porcelain face and the sapphire eyes, the mask of **Freak, Freak, Psychopath, Freak** , eroding away.

Sherlock occupied his remaining time filling up the spaces in his mind of John, a reckless, desperate process of little details shoved everywhere he could find, in every space and every gap.

Then he found out the next act; The Fall. The re-enactment of the Fall of humanity. A dead-eyed serpent offering an apple; an Eve debauched like a trap (Eve? What Eve, it was Lilith no doubt), and him… Not Adam, no.

Lucifer.

**“I may be on the side of the angels, but don’t think for one second that I am one of them.”**

Lucifer falling from grace.

And when he looked down, upon the face of John, his warrior, his Michael, he can only think of how he wished that John had actually seen those smiles.


End file.
